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I’m Michael Jackson, and I’ve been roaming the Earth as a ghost for over 10 years.
Part 1 For the few who don’t know me, I am a musician who is considered the King of Pop. Ever since my breakthrough with my album Thriller, I’ve spend my time on Earth releasing music, preforming my signature dances, partaken in acting, and I’ve done so much more. But now’s not the time to explain everything I’ve done before. Today, I need to explain what happened on June 25, 2009. The day that changed my life forever. I was in LA on June 24 for a rehearsal. I recently announced my “This Is It” tour. I haven’t released a new album in what felt like forever, and by doing the tour, I can let everyone know that I am still around, continuing my music career. I was also gonna do this tour to introduce my music to the children who didn’t necessarily grew up with me. That night, I got prepared for more rehearsals. I felt a little dizzy, because my “doctor”, if you can even call him that, gave me some medicine for vitiligo. Vitiligo is a skin disease that removes your skin color. Why else do you think I became white later on in my years? But I went to bed on 9 PM. I woke up at 2 AM, because I felt sharp pain. The room was really dark, and I could barely see anything. I noticed that I was wearing an oxygen mask. When I went to grab it, a hand grabbed me. A light then came on, which blinded me for a second. When I regained vision. I saw the “doctor”. He had a grin on his face. An evil grin. “Night, night...” He then pulled out an unknown medicine and put it in a box that looked like it was connected to the mask. I felt a very extreme pain that I can’t even describe. I could barely even speak, and then he left. The “doctor” was suppose to help me when I’m sick. Why would he do this to me? I then saw his phone on the desk. I grabbed it and unlocked it. Obviously, he was murdering me, and I needed to call 911. However, something compelled me to go to voice memo instead. I told my fans that I might not make it, and if that was the case, then I loved them. I told them to listen to my music. I told them to introduce their kids, their grandkids, and their grandkids’s grandkids to my music. I told them to do this too keep my legacy alive and unforgotten. “And if no one told you they loved you, then I love you.” Those were the last words I said before I stopped the recording and went to dial 911, but just when I was about to call, I blacked out. I soon woke up, not feeling any pain at all. Maybe it was a nightmare? I went to get up and stretch. I looked back, and that’s when I saw my body. My dead body. I was speechless. I went to touch it, and that’s when my hand went over my dead body, and over the bed. I froze. Was I a ghost? I heard a door open, and the “doctor” walked in. He checked my pulse, and then laughed. Laughed like someone just told him a funny joke. This wasn’t a joke at all. “I’ve finally did it! I’ve killed Michael-Fucking-Jackson! I can’t wait to see the sorrow in his fan’s faces when they find out their king is dead!” Anger rushed into my body quickly. The “doctor” wasn’t here to help me. He was here to murder me! I went to punch him, but my swinging fist just went straight through him. I then watched as he went outside, then came back with a heavy bag. When he opened it, there was another me. He looked exactly liked me. “Thanks to the cloning machine I created, I was able to make an entirely new Michael Jackson with his hair. Now the county is going to deal with a cloned Jackson, and they won’t even know it!” Cloning machine? He cloned my body? He then replaced my dead body to the cloned body, then put my old body into the bag and went outside. I followed him as he went to his car, put my body in the trunk, and drove off. I was sitting in the passenger seat. I was in shock at that point. I wanted to believe that this was all a bad dream. I had to wake up out of this dream. I wanted to go see my kids. I wanted to go back to the Staples Center to rehearse more. I wanted to be with my fans. But I would never wake up in the nightmare. The car finally stopped at a mountain, far away from Los Angeles. He got out, and he dragged my body. I then watch in horror as he poured gasoline on the bag and set it on fire. He was flat out disrespecting me! I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran and jumped into the fire, hoping to end it all here. But I never burned. In fact, I don’t think the “doctor” even noticed me. When I got out of the fire, there wasn’t any burn marks at all. Just dirt. He then extinguished the fire and pulled up a tarp that I haven’t even noticed. It was in a camouflage color, and underneath it was a hole. It looked to be about 5-10 feet long. He took my remains and dumped them into the hole, then buried it with bags of dirt. “Now time to go back to the house before anyone suspects I’m gone.” I didn’t go into the car. I watched as he drove away. I’m sure you all know the rest of my death story. At this point, I was very sad. I sat and bawled my eyes out as I watched the sunrise in the Downtown. Why would he do it? What will happen now? Where will I go now? After what felt like forever, I got up and ran back to my home. It was filled with firefighters and paramedics. They were attempting to rescue the clone body using CPR, but it didn’t look like it was working. I took my bag and filled it with food, water, my iPod and headphones, a laptop, and a photo of me and my children. I then ran out and went to the Los Angeles International Airport, where I would board a flight to Gary, Indiana. I would tell you more, but I can’t. I’m typing this in a library. I can’t tell you where I am exactly, but the library’s gonna open soon, and I gotta go. I’ll check back on you all later. Part 2 I’m back. I came into the library earlier than usual, because I have a lot to say. First off, I am aware that my rival Prince passed away in 2016. No I have not met him, but I plan on seeing him soon. I’ve listened to the latest music that’s come out of recently, and I’m disappointed. Nowadays, all everyone wants to listen to is rap, generic pop, and country. Sometimes I wonder if people even realize that I existed. But let’s get back to the story... During the flight to Gary, I sat at the back of the cabin, listening to my music on the iPod while reflecting on what just happened. A lot of the people on that flight don’t even know what happened to me, and most people don’t even know the cruelty the so-called doctor did to me. It was about 9 PM when the flight ended. It was hotter than usual at that time, but I didn’t care. However, I needed to rest. I found a more nearby and snuck into a vacant room. I settled my things and turned on the TV. Michael Jackson was pronounced dead earlier today, and fans are already mourning for the King of Pop. Here is what a Jordan Kodie, a fan of MJ, has to say: Jordan: '''Crying' Michael was one of my favorite artists of all time... I can’t believe he had to go... why?'' Michael’s body is currently in custody of the Los Angeles County Coroner, where an autopsy will be preformed to find out the cause of his death. I already knew what happened. I would love to tell everyone what really happened, but I couldn’t. By that point, I was tired. I turned off the TV, and I went to bed. I woke up at 7 AM. I went to the Denny’s across the street. Since no one seems to notice me, I figured I’d sneak into the kitchen and take some of the food. I know it’s wrong to steal, but I’m dead! Who’s gonna stop me? Ghostbusters? While I was getting some food, I heard some of the chefs talking. “You heard about Michael Jackson dead?” “Yeah. The LA Coroner is doing an autopsy right now to find out why he died. I wonder if he was poisoned...” “Yeah, no S-H-I-T!” I spelled out (I’m not much of a cusser). But then they froze. “Did you hear that, John?” “Probably just the wind.” I ran out there and left the food with me. I’ll just stick to the food I packed for now. I ate a Pop-tart and some water before going to my destination: My childhood home. My childhood house was a tiny ranch at the southwest corner of 23rd Ave. It wasn’t the best, but that’s all we had. I was pretty grateful for what I had back then, and I remain grateful to this day. I figure I go visit it one last time before I left. When I got there, I saw flowers and pictures of me on the sidewalk. The fans must’ve left those for me. I shed a tear as I read a note that someone had left. Dear Michael Jackson, I am really sad that you left. I don’t know who did it, but if someone had poisoned you, then I’m gonna go and kick their butt! I hope you are in heaven right now, and get to continue to make music for God! Love, Jasmine The letter looked to have been written by a child. I cried, knowing that the children will never be able to hear my singing again. I’ll never make music for God up in heaven. Just then, I heard a car drove right to the block. I was a grey Chevy Impala that looked a little beaten up. Who I saw came out of the driver side stunned me... It was my daddy, Joe Jackson. He wasn’t the best father. He would physically and emotionally abuse me as a child, as well as taunting me for my nose. It is the reason why I was described as a “shy” kid, and why I had plastic surgery, because I didn’t want anyone to make fun of me. My father won’t even let us call him daddy! He wanted us to just call him “Joseph”. Despite everything, I still loved him, and continue to honor him. Dad went to the flowers and photos, and he picked up a red rose. He then looked up to the sky and said this: “Michael, I know I may not have been the best father to you. I may have been a piece of shit to your eyes. But I still care about you. The fame, the money, and the success you brought to us has changed me, your mother, you siblings, and the world. Michael... I love you, son...” In unison, we both broke down crying together. “I love you too daddy,” I said. After that, he went back into the Impala and drove off. I also went to say goodbye for the house one last time, and went back to the hotel. That evening, I watched the coverage of my death while listening to my Thriller album. As my song “Human Nature” started playing, the news reported said this: One of my favorite songs from Michael was Human Nature. All of my other friends either liked his song Thriller or Bad. But I wasn’t into those songs. I liked Human Nature because of how calm it was. I enjoyed Michael’s sweet, passive voice, and most importantly, how it talks about him being with a girl in the city. Maybe that’s where he is now. In the city with the girl of her dreams... I broke down crying again for the second time. At that same time, the song began the part where I sang a beautiful “Ah” that words can’t describe. Why did I have to die a painful death when all I wanted to do was change the world? That’s when I got an idea: I can spend my immortal life roaming across the globe, seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly of Earth. I can bring peace to everyone and everything, and create the perfect world. I got to packing everything once again, then I headed to the airport to begin my journey. I’m gonna end this right here, because the library’s about to open once again. I’ll come back to you all later. Part 3 I’m back. I read some of your answers, and I guess I’ll reveal my location. I am currently residing in a small town near Macedonia, Greece. I came here about a month ago. It’s a really nice place. Now I’ll tell you all about the journey. Over the next 10 years, I’ve traveled throughout the world to bring peace. That was my original plan. 2 years from then, I realized that world peace can’t be done by one person. So I just decided to travel around just for the exploration. I can tell you everything about my tours, but to save lots of time, I’ll tell you the highlights only. My first trip in my journey was in London. This was where I was originally gonna have my “This Is It” concert be held in. Of course, you all know that didn’t happen. When I arrived, I saw that there was a large group of people mourning for my loss. My songs were being played out by a large speaker. They also handed out flowers and cards. I felt sad, but I had to move on. I went into a abandoned building near downtown and resided there for the night. The next day, I went out to enter the Buckingham Palace. I had never step foot in the building, so I figured I sneak in. As I went to the gate, I saw the Queen’s Guards, who stood like statues and were on the lookout for anyone who could do harm. Since they couldn’t see me, I went past the gate and to the palace. The Buckingham Palace looks great when looking at its pictures, but you need to be there yourself to fully capture the true beauty of it. It made Neverland look like a trailer in comparison! I went inside, and I was astonished by how clean and polish the rooms were. The housekeepers definitely aren’t amateurs! However, I went into the TV room, where the Queen and her family were watching BBC. Michael Jackson’s funeral has been planned to take place in the Staples Center in Los Angeles on July 7, 2009. It will be public, so fans can come inside to pay respects to the King of Pop. Perfect. I was gonna have to travel to LA in a few days to come to it. The Royal Family, however, wasn’t amused. “MJ deserved what he got. Especially since he molested innocent children!” the Prince said. “I know. The bloody kid bribed his way to be acquitted! My courthouses will never allowed that!” the Queen exclaimed. I couldn’t believe what they have said. This is a perfect time to let you all know that I did not sexually assaulted or molested any children. I may have slept with Gavin in bed, but it wasn’t sexual at all! Out of anger, I grabbed one of the chair feet that the Queen was sitting on and ripped it apart. She fell and landed hard, and she ended up breaking her back! She also cussed a lot. I laughed. “She got what she deserved!” I thought. Looking back, it was really immature and out of character for me to do that, but because my passing was still fresh, and I was already feeling a lot of emotions, I kinda lost it. Thankfully, she recovered from her injuries. I spent a few more days in London, visiting its attractions, before I eventually went to LA in July 6 for the funeral. As I was in a vacant motel room, I kept wondering why the “doctor” would do something as cruel as that. I heard he was going to be tried for his crimes. I hope he gets at least life in prison! Unfortunately, he only served 2 years, but lets not go too far. The funeral was one of the hardest things I had to go through. As it was going, I saw family members, friends, fans, and my own children give their condolences on how great of a person I was. It was especially hard to see my own children cry while they told the audience how great of a father I was. “Ever since I was born... daddy has been the best father you can ever imagine... and I just wanted to say I love him... so much..,” my daughter Paris said before she broke down crying. I cried too. The worst thing a child can experience is to lose their own parents. After the service, I walked back to my hotel, listening to my song “Little Susie/Pie Jesu”. I thought about me being little Susie, how the murderer was the “doctor”, and how the witnesses were my fans, who are now traumatized by my passing. If only I hired a better doctor, if only my children’s mother never left so they won’t have to go to the corrupted foster care system, if only I was making more music during my final years... That night, I decided that I needed to let go of my tragic death. Screw the monster who killed me! I can care less if he gets executed! I went to the airport and boarded a trip to China. I would stay in China for 3 months, exploring it’s urban cities and rural farms. I gotta go now. I’ll tell you more about my journeys soon. Part 4 Sorry for being gone for a while. I was getting out of Macedonia and going to Ati, Chad. Chad is a pretty strange place. It’s in a desert and the WiFi is pretty spotty. I’m in an Internet cafe, where I’m typing this. Let me continue. About 4 years after my death, I went to Winnipeg, Manitoba to reside there for a while. It was pretty cold there, as there was snow pouring in. I went inside an apartment building and entered room 413 in the fourth floor. There, I saw my records and merchandise. The residents there must really like me. Upon entering the room, however, I saw something strange... A man was... how do I put this? “Playing with himself”? He was doing it while watching the interview I had with OWN. “I’m gonna go now. This guy is weird!” I thought as I exited the room. I just went to the rooftop and rested there. The next morning, I ate at a Tim Hortons and explored the downtown area. As I was, I saw a big poster about a concert. EXPERIENCE MICHAEL JACKSON LIKE NEVER BEFORE!!! Come to the IG Field at 315 Chancellor Matheson Rd for the MJ concert of your life! There will be food, drinks, and fun activities for all ages! This sounds weird. Why are they still doing concerts? I’m dead anyway! The concert was today. So I went there and went inside the stadium. It was huge. There were many different people. I saw mini, petty carnival games. There were also people paying tons of money just for cheap plastic toys and my glove replicas. Outside, there was a large stage smacked in the middle of the field. A large TV projected the “MICHAEL JACKSON COMEBACK CONCERT” logo. I sat on front next to families. “Ladies and gentlemen!” A speaker said, “Welcome to the MJ Comeback Concert!” The crowd cheered. I was very confused. Is there gonna be an actor? “We would like to thank you all for participating in this nonprofit concert. Now here is the one and only MJ!” I saw a man dressed up like me run up to the stage. The crowd cheered and went crazy as “MJ” started performing Thriller. I was surprised by how accurate he did the Thriller dance. For the next hour, the actor performed many of my classic hits while the crowd cheered for me. I was so fascinated by how accurate it was, I thought I was looking at a clone! That’s when I decided to have some fun. While he was performing “Man in the Mirror”, I poured oil I took from the backstage all over the floor. I laughed as everyone slipped. “Looks like MJ is having a slip and slide!” The announcer joked. Everyone was laughing. That is, until a shot was heard. I don’t remember what happened next. But all I knew is that the actor that played me was on the ground, blood covering him all around. His head... his head was gone... the crowd was desperate to escape. More shots were heard. I ran out of there. I don’t know who shot them, nor do I know if they were caught or killed. All I know was that I had to get out of Winnipeg. I got on a last minute flight to Uruguay and sat at the back seat, crying on what I’ve just witnessed. It reminded me too much of the 2009 incident. I just hope the perpetrator was arrested and tried for his crimes. I landed in Montevideo, where I went to a motel near the airport. It was run down, but I didn’t care. It was dark and I needed to sleep. People wonder what was my favorite song. It was Smile. I recorded it for the HIStory album. It was based off of the 1936 Charlie Chaplin film "Modern Times." It was so great, I cried after the first finish. I played that song throughout the night, and then went to sleep. The cafe is about to open now. I gotta go. I’ll come back later. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta